


Through A Glass Darkly

by dulceata2



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-03-12 15:01:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13549794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dulceata2/pseuds/dulceata2
Summary: It simply isn’t an adventure worth telling if there aren’t any dragons.Disclaimer: Again, if you recognize it, it's not mine and I hold no claim over it.





	1. Chapter 1

She dared him to find her. She should have known better than to tempt a fae. They kept their word. They always won.


	2. Chapter 2

When she tried to slip into New York she found the pathway blocked. Jareth must have winged to his mother. There was London, but that was too obvious as it was the only pathway available. Damn it she would have to cross over into the Black Woods. It was the only place they could not see. But there were spiders there. Not the everyday daddy longlegs - which still freaked her out - but the large poisonous kinds a la Lord of the Rings. The idea had to come from somewhere after all and despite himself, Tolkien had been lost there having insulted one of the fey.

Sarah was able to make her way out of the sick room and out of the palace with no problem. She knew all the hidden pathways and mirrors with secret backway, but after she was outside she was stuck She watched a pair of centaurs drift by, drunk of course. They were still lost in the allure of faerie magic and trying to prophesize whilst weaving and tripping over their own hooves. 

So ends my dream. My life must be  
One long regret and misery  
Loved not, though loving, what care I  
How soon I die.  
For whilst I live my wail must ever run  
Too lightly won! Too lightly won.

Their words did not make any grammatical sense but she was able to tell the gist of it. She was afraid that this was her fututure. And she refused. She wouldn’t be that girl. The kind of girl who merely fell at his feet. She knew they were connected somehow and that it was inevitable that he would “win” her, but by God she would make him fight for it. He had no power over her, after all.

She swung her bardic cloak more securely over her back, for what protection it was worth, and teleproted to the entrance of the Black Woods. She’d only been to the edges once on assignment for Oberon. To commandeer some herbs from the hedgewitch who lived around there, so as not have to go through having the idiot male who would be the father of a rapunel steal it. No one wanted that storyline after all. She wouldn’t have dared teleport there if she hadn’t been there before, so the wards knew her. 

She cautiously entered the pathway and felt the said wards trickle over her skin making her shiver slightly. But she wa a bardic mage and supposed to be better than that. So she squared her shoulders and mustered on. She wasn’t sure where she would go after passing through the forest as it wouldn’t stop him and she knew she had to keep moving. She could possibly temporarily pass into London and from there flick over to New York, but that had it’s own dangers. Now that she thought of it, he would expect her to take sanctuary in her childhood home, and she couldn’t endanger Toby like that. She knew, at this point, that Toby was a grown man with his own family now. They still lived in the old house though, and Jareth had already shown a willingness to disregard the house’s boundaries. She still felt the responsibilitie of an older sister, particularly because of her preteen failings, which later got her caught in faerie webs, and because she knew they shouldn’t or couldn’t go up against the Goblin King and his minions.  
While she was pondering this she kept a somewhat lackadaisical eye out for dangers. She wasn’t expecting anything as she was on the king’s road, which was watched, but it was alway good to be careful. Particularly because this was not the king of the faeries which although they disagreed sometimes, she didn’t think the royal family wanted her dead or undead for that matter. This was the king of the forest, who felt nothing for her and was more like a spirit of the forest.  
Which was why she didn’t pick up the presence of a nest of neutral chaotic creature. Pixies! You know the fairy tale image of a light angelic minaute in pink flimsy dresses and wings, full of good intentions and well being, well these were nothing like that. It was the Black Woods, for crying out loud!

Frack’n pixies! They kept getting stuck in her hair and she didn’t have the time to spare picking them out. And do you know how stupid pixies were? She could hear them giggling over their inane gossip constantly. Sure she could always cut her hair, but that was her one vanity. She was inordinately proud of her ebony locks. It distinguished her from the crowd of blondes and red heads that made up the fey court.

After shaking them out and finding a few knotted in her hair, which she was not happy about, she saw a light in the distance. Now this should have given her flashes from Tolkien, but she was curious, and after all she had nothing better to do at the moment. She was a bit presumptious about her own defenses too.

As she approached the circle of light and was crouching on it’s borders, best be careful after all. She was met by the point of a sword in front of a face. Looking up she saw a young male face with distinct royal feaures, but not of the royal family, but that of the erstwhile “bad” elder son. He was obviously just out of adolescance as he still had gangly limbs and a bit of baby fat on his cheeks, but the look of condescension and threat was remniscant of Morgan. They boy was still a head taller than her and was asking her something. It was in Gaelic which she still didn’t understand, but she made a guess. She decided to use the introduction she’d used for Puck, a year and a day ago.  
"Very well. I am called Sarah mac Williams, wizard-mage extraordinaire attached to the court of Oberon and welcome at his call. I am the daughter of a mortal woman and an elven blood father, despite my mortal ‘dad.’ The fairies call this proof that my father deigned to place his attention upon my mother-”  
But again she was interrupted.an   
“I care not for your origins woman, why are you here?”  
Oh so he could speak proper English, though his manners on the other hand….  
She decided if he was going to be all pompous and holier than thou, so wasge ashe. Backing up and letting her hands glow with mage power. “That is not your busineehind them started, and they both turned with ss, Dylan ap Morgan.”  
She recognized him now, and his presence here worried her. What was he up to.  
“So you know me, but I know you not. Tis now the very witching time of night. But I assume you come from my grandmother to leash me and drag me back. And I’d run so far after my father did what he did. So fair lady, what will it be? “”  
She let her mage power peter out and looked at him. “No.”  
“No?” he asked, confused.  
“ I shant put a collar on you. You did nothing. I don’t believe in inherited blame. After all I’m running too.”  
He sheathed his sword and extended. “Honor amongs thieves, eh? What are you running from?”  
She tied her hair back with a leather thong in a huff. “Oh, your uncle. It’s more like a game. If he wants me, he has to catch me” she explained, distractedly.  
He snorted “Oh you’re that Sarah! I don’t know how often I heard you drive the court into coniptions. It’s a pleasure.”  
“I’m sure. So just what was your plan?”  
He scratched the back of his head in embarassment. “I didn’t really have one, I just knew I had to get away for a couple decades.”  
Then a rushing in the bushes behind them started rustling and they both turned in trepidation, both expecting a mop of blonde hair to appear. Instead it was brown and covering a mischeviously familiar face.  
“I knew I’d find you first!” he exclaimed.  
Sarah relaxed though Dylan remained tense. He recognized Marlowe as a member of the court and was unsure just who he was talking to.   
“These are not your usual haunts, fair lady” he said sarcastically.   
“Did Jareth send you, Marlowe?” Sarah asked exasperatedly .   
He drew himself up dramatically, “ You wound me, Sarah. I would never do what the ponce-y prince said especially not in regards to you.” He reached over and attempted to ruffle her hair, but whe wacked his hand away. “Will and I came to give you succor and we find you with the not-charming princeling. Titania has a tracking on him you know” he said turning serious.  
Dylam cursed sharpl, looking pained. Marlow looked over at him, sighing, “You know you are not blamed for your father’s misdeeds.”  
Dylan laughed sharply. “I assumed so, but that does not mean my actions won’t be watchd and that I’ll have a gilded cage.”  
“Unless..” Marlowe looked maningfully at Sarah. “” If you’re sent above ground, they would not look for you, if human and young.”  
“Why would I want to be a babe for centyries” Dylan asked confu  
“Heresedly.  
“You obviously haven’t been aboveground before.” Marlowe muttered disparagingly.  
Sarah ignored him, “Time flows faster in the human world” she explained, “And as a child, no one could blame you, for running away. The fey love children. And by the time you hit adolescance again it would all be forgotten as the crown would have changed and new issues come up.”  
“All right. If you think it best.”  
“It would have to be London though” she muttered “ the way is too closely watched right now for New Yourk to be plausible, elst I would trust you with my brother’s family.” She turned to Marlowe, “Kit do you know any family in London that is not know by the queen?”  
“Well there is Will’s descendents…” Kit said thoughtfully,” Will has’t met them, but he’s kept an eye on them. They’re food people, not the writing sort, but still good people.”  
“Wher is Will anyways? You two are usually joined at the hip.”  
Before Marlow could reply, Will came crashing out of the bushes Marlowe had appeared from.   
“Here! And ‘exit pursued by a bear’ should not be a reality” he wheezed out. Marlowe whacked him on the back in false comeraderi and motioned towards Sarah “Well let’s get on with it, bard-mage.”  
Dylan extended a leg in a bow he must have leared from his father, all flourish. “As you will it, my queen.”   
Did he just? Oh that was nasty! He just pledged fealty to me.But she had given her word, so she would do the spell, no matter how pissed off she was at him.

“See what I found in the street  
A man child lusty and fair  
With little while limbs and little feet  
A glory of golden yellow hair.”

As he began to disappear he winked at her and gave her the Terminator’s line, “I’ll be back.” She thought he wasn’t aware of movie culture?

She always liked lyrical spells as it appeased her bardic sensibilities, and she would disguise himm as blonde in a sort of passive revenge.He could always dye it, when he got older after all.   
“By my troth and maidenhead, I would not be a queen!” she exclaimed in frustration. Will looked embarassed, while Marlowe looked curious.   
“You’re still going on about that? Just accept it, he’ll eventually catch you. And what is this about maidenhood? Haven’t you made the beast with two backs yet?”  
“What do you mean yet?!” she completely disregarded Will’s efforts to calm her. Finally he gave up and merely clipped his partner on the back of the head. Their companionship had lasted nearly four hundred years, despite having several light hearted arguments over literary structure and who’s plays were whose.

Now that that was taken care of she had to figure out what to do next as she now had to manage two companions, as she suspected Kit and Will would refuse to leave her side, seeing it as a grand adventure.


	3. Chapter 3

Before they could decide on a decisive plan there was the ferocious growl comin from not far off. Sarah glanced over at Will, asking “just where did you leave that bear?”  
It was a gleeting question that she asked as they were all dashing in different directions, much like headless chickens. Although how she knew that as she had never seen such chickens.  
It was only thirteen minutes lateer that she relised she was screwed. She’d lost the path and had left the supplies behind her with no way of finding them as they’’d brushed dirt over the fire. This was not going how she had thought her exscapade would go at all.She didn’t kknow what she had been thinking, Maybe something like galloping off in the sunset, perfectly put together, hair flowing behind her in the wind. Yeah that sounded familiar. But instead she was in day old clothes, hair tangled and in the complete dark. And she could swear something was watching her in the trees. SHe wasn’t paranoid there waas something there! Most likely it was just a curious wood spirit but the possibilities! After all this was broaching into the lands held by the dark fey rather than the light and grey that she was used to. Constant vigilance and all that, as Moody would say. And spiders! She had almost forgotten about the spiders! Realistically she knew that she’d never be able to sense them befor they descended upon her, but that didn’t stop her from continuously feel spider legs brushing against her. You know that feel where you see one spider and afet that you always feel then craling across you even if they’re not there or you’re in the freaking shower. Yeah, that.  
“O, thou are fairer than the evening air. Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars” a voice cried mockingly from above, so not spiders then. She wasn’t sure if this was better thouugh. She recognised that voice. It was a Ben Jonson, a young never do well, who idolized Marlowe and somehow managed to stagger down here in a drunken haze, They did not get along.   
“What are you doing here, Ben?” Sarah sighed hopelessly. Now that he’d found her, he’d never let her leave without driving her into a fury of indignation.  
He ignored her question, jumping down and looking at her with his head cocked to the side, “ Well obviously you’d be here. The whole court is looking.”  
“That doesn’t explain why you’re here” she said snidely. One of his main irks was that he was not invited into the royal court as he deemed he was worth. “And what do you meadn ‘obviously?”  
“You’re more predictable than you think, mage” he mocked.  
“Why are all of you following me then?” she demanded.  
He shrugged pretending nonchalance, “ Prince’s orders.”  
She cursed, “That infuriating bastard!”   
“Well no, actually. He’s quite legitimate” Ben said in false consolidation.   
She was pissed, obviously Kit and Will had been sent on the same order. They wer completely loual to the royal family after all. But she had hoped they felt something similar for her. Foolishness.

Sarah looked over into Ben’s smirking face and that solidified her decision. She would never let such and imbecile drag her back, If Jareth wanted her, he’d have to do it himself. She curtsied sarcastically to him, and blinked out, teleporting to the far edge of the woods. Which was incredibly stupid of her because she had never been there before, but she let her anger over take her sense. And hey, the Williams luck held. She made it safely. Now as long as she didn’t see Sir Chaucer she wouldn’t have to flambe anyone.

Back in the royal fey castle Jareth played with his balls. His glass ones what do you take me for? And chuckled to himself. She thought he wouldn’t find her. As soon as Marlowe had crashed into her clearing he knew right where she was. Not because the poet had done anything particularly nefarious, but because he had attached a seeing crystal to the poet’s psyche, unbeknowstst to him. Jareth knew his loyalty to the crown was trues, but Sarah was the type to draw people to her, and he knew Marlowe and Will were already fond of her. He hadn’t expected Jonson to find her, but her response was expected. Now what would she do next? He might have to make a piece appearance. Just to make sure she knew he was coming. 

Sarah was sleeping fitfully as the last teleportation had winded her. Her dreams were full of memories. She was a young girl of fifteen again, with flowers in her hair. Pansies, or love in idleness, and she was walking along the lakeside dreaming within a dream. When it shifted from true memory into a peach filled hallucination and the girl by the lake was caught by a blonde boy and swung around into his arms, laughingly.   
Sarah jerked awake, groaningly. She had forgotten he could walk dreams, although this one had been relatively benign. 

She had regained most of her energy, but was still a bit unsure on what to do. She was right up against the edge of the forest when she felt a metaphysical branch brush up against her. Being a mage she was sensitive to the weird and occult, but this was new.   
Looking up with her third eye - no it’s not an actual eye, that would be gross, Think Heii - she saw a green eyed male pushing a sparkly branch down towards her. He kept having gigantic wings blink in and out of her view, and he was sucking on a lollipop of all things.   
“You going, my way doll?” he drawled. Perfect.   
She climbed up, using the small vines that twined around her as leverage. “Where to?” he asked as if he picked up random girls like this every day.

Once they were upon the tree - should she call it a tree it seemed much more than that - and sitting upon a knoll at the middle of the trunk, the forest floor below a forgotten illusion, he leaned back contentedly, his hands behind his head and knee cocked. “Ah it’s always good to put a wrench in those pompous pointy eared prats” he muttered to himself, giggling slightly.   
“Excuse me?” Sarah exclaimed, her hands brushing over her slightly pointed ears. So many years in Faerie would do something to you, it wasn’t always so whimsical though. Sometimes it was horns or tails. Or at least so she was told, there weren’t many humans who lasted long enough to experience such changes in Faerie. Except for the Bridgets that is, there was a different problem for those individuals.   
Most stolen babes became full fey after the first year, there were very few stolen after they’d reached adolescence. And usually as playthings to be tossed aside afterwards. Look at poor Tomas. The poets were already partly in Faerie before they made there home down here, at leas most of them. Sir Chaucer was the most dramatic shift. She guessed it was because Elizabeth had always had a dual identity with Titania.

“Not you sweetheart.”  
She begant to suspect who he was. Lucifer had told her stories about his prodigal brother. The archangel who didn’t want to be one. Who made play at being a pagan god of mischief, and was the more human appearing one. Obsessed with sweets to maintain his hallucinogenic power. Illusion and make believe. Worse than Jareth’s peaches.   
“Gabriel?” she asked tentatively.  
He scowled at her “It’s Loki, and don’t listen to what those two idiots have to say about it.”  
Sarah looked very confused. She said “Okay?” hesitatingly. She was a bit freaked out by the sense that she was in space and she kept having the feeling that she should be asphyxiating from lack of oxygen, and starting to crystallize from the cold. But she supposed it was something to do with either her power, which she doubted, or his grace, which he was ignoring.   
“It’s mine” he told her, answering her mental question, which was not cool. “Okay now I’m done” he said decisively, not even speaking to her more like at her. HIs mood had switched again, and he had decided that, while thwarting the fey was fun, the constant human was too much directly after having been exposed to the brothers, even if this one was female and surprisingly quiet. She knew things.   
So he decided to be perverse in his helpfullness, and kicked her out of the tree into a portal. Not one that sent her to one of the nine realms, although Vanheim was pleasant right now, but instead into the Avalonian past, still obtainable to Jareth, but only through more effort than poetic spies. The fey worship Avalon after all. It was separate from their everyday realm, though they did have the sleeping king, so the course of time differed. 

She fell right in front of a stampeding griffon. Now normally that wouldn’t faze her, animals like her. But the group of four armored men approaching the griffon did.   
Int the lead was a dark haired male with piercing blue eyes, that she recognized. The sleeping king, awake! You hear all those stories about a muscular blonde Arthur, but this one was the typical Anglican dark haired and svelt, So the smaller man riding behind him must be Myrddin? She must have hit her head harder than she thought.   
“My lady, move!” one of the knights shouted in alarm.   
Just then she felt claws tear into her back, right before there was the scream of a dying eagle as an arrow was shot right through its heart, mere inches above her head. As she collapsed in pain she saw that it was Myrrdin who made the shot, rather than the three other men who were helplessly waving their swords around. 

Sarah came to after being bandaged and a cold flask of water being poured down her throat. Or at least she presumed it was water, one never knew wieth a wzard in company. She woke to have four pairs of eyes looking down at her, one of which was owned by the lap she currently had her head in. Always the lady’s man, Arthur was. Common legend had that it was Launcelot who held such demeanor, but it was really all about Arthur, Guenevere was just… uggh.   
“How fares thee, my lady?  
Oh crap formal language, she could do this but sometimes she missed modern slang.


	4. Chapter 4

“My lady?”heasked again to get her to focus.   
Then Arthur interrupted, smirking down at her, “She’s distracted by my how gorgeous I am.   
She scowled up at him but before she could give him the what for, Merlin snarked.   
“Of course that’s it” and kneedling down besides her he asked gently “what may we call you, my lady?” Ah so even here they knew not to ask for names.   
Sarah smiled up at him, blushing slightly, “I am called Sarah mac Williams, wizard-mage extraordinaire attached to the court of Oberon and welcome at his call.” she answered, distractedly.   
The knights stilled at this, but merlin seemed unaffected. He reached over and brushed a lock of my hair to cover my pointed ears,.  
“It might me best, my lady, to not let on that you are part of the fey court.”  
Right, camelot was still in it’s stilted age about magic. Arthur appeared in his early twenties after all. Myrddin said this and rose sharply winking at her and glancing over at the surrounding men, who nodded. This was none of their business, they just knew that there was a maiden in need of succor, a veritable quest even if there was no round table yet.  
Sarah turned red at the wink. She must have a thing for men with magic, she sighed, this didn’t really surprise her .She knew this .   
Then she as being lifted and carried bridal style in the air and carried away, which annoyed her because female power and all that. But her head reste against Arthur’s chest and she felt the steady beat of his heart and it was all very sappy romance story. But it wasn’t as jolty as she expected, never having been carried this way before, it was soothing. And she began to nod off, dimension hopping took a lot out of her, plus the fact that her innate magic was already working on healing her. The only reason she hadn’t passed out yet from depletion was because of her proximity to Myrddin and the fact that he was adding bits to her power. If she concentrated she could see his blue swirling together with her green. But who was looking?

Jareth cursed and jerked up as Sarah blinked out of existence in his crystal. All that was left was two smirking green eyes. “God dam angels!” he swore.   
“You called?” Lucifer said from behind him, leaning arrogantly against the doorframe. Looking into the crystal he chortled “Oh little Gabey’s at it again.” He clapped Jareth on the shoulder, already suspecting what he had been doing, and amused at the chase that Williams was leading him on. That girl had spunk. “You’d best just sit back and wait until she wants to be caught” he laughed.   
Jareth glared at him, then smiled at him, showing his sharp teeth “Despite my years enguring the tithe, Morningstar, we are not friends. “  
“Same to you” Lucifer said sharply, “after all you fey make me twitchy. Pagan.

Sarah woke up to pair of furious brown eyes staring down at her, and a girl, no woman, who looked alot like her, looking on in amusement. Then the owner of the brown eyes hmphed, and with a switch of her skirts, departed. The woman at the door with equally green laughing eyes, approached the bed that Sarah was starting to raise herself up from, wincing as the gashes on her back rubbed against the bandages. The woman seated herself on the side of Sarah’s bed and extended her hand “I am called Morgana” she offered. When their hands touched she felt a spark sizzle across her senses and one of Morgana’s eyebrows rose. Ah so she felt the magic too. “Oh I think we’re going to get along. Arthur is my brother and you, mystery? You remind me of Myrddin.”  
“I am called Sarah, lady” Sarah answered sheepishly. “What?! She gestures at the door the brown eyed girl had departed from. While the two were probably the same age. She seemed so much younger than the woman seated at her bedside.  
“Oh Gwen’s just jealous. The prince was down here a lot, but not as much as Myrddin” she waggled her eyes.   
Sarah decided to ignore it, “Is Gwen his intended then?” she asked questioningly.  
Morgana blinked for a second in surprise, “No, she’s my maid, why would you think that?”  
“No reason” Sarah sighed, she guessed the stories were wrong in more ways than one.   
“Well enough” Morgana turned serious, “my father has called for your presence.” Then she leaned down and whispered urgently “Don’t let him see your ears or magic. Camelot has banned magic with consequence of death.”  
Myrddin had implied something like this. She wondered when she would see him again, she needed him to get back to her own realm after all.

ON the throne at the end of a long entrance hall covered with tapestries and portraits of previous kings, sat an old aging man with the remaining traces of a strong jaw.  
“My son tells me you a bard” he demanded of her. “A woman?!”  
“Indeed your majesty” she was amused at his display of chauvinism. But he surprise her by asking for a song. She understood that it was a trial, but she would still do her best, well used to performing for royalty at the snap of a finger. Glancing over she saw Myrddin making cautious motions with his hands from behind the king. He still obviously hadn’t learned subtlety. She sighed mentally, so no Tam Lin but she’d pull out one of her more mundane favourites, still probably more romantic than this king was wanting, but what did he expect? He knew she was a bard! She would just have to change some of the more modern vocabulary.

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.   
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.   
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,   
And the highwayman came riding—  
Riding—riding—  
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

She started singing softly and rhythmically. Her voice growing louder as the climax approached. 

Far away and sideways, Jareth smiled in his sleep, her voice echoing across his mind.They were linked after all, and music was the oldest form of magic, or so his mother had taught him. Love knots hmm…

Sarah was sitting on the castle parapets, watching the joust below her and absent mindedly weaving the cloth between her fingers in no particular pattern. She watched the pair of golden hair with a golden circlet sadly. Knowing his future fate.   
“I know what you see.” She startled, not having heard Myrddin come up behind her.   
“But he will bring a golden age to the kingdom, and he will rise again.”  
“For the greater good?” she said snidely. She always forgot the fact that Myrddin was living backwards and had seen it before. She shuddered at the thought, hoping she’d never have to make such a decision, but feared she would be immersed in fey politics of the like when Jareth finally came to the throne.   
Myrddin remained calm though he tensed a bit when a sword blow got a bit too close to Arthur’s back. Gwen had nothing on Myrddin. “You are not from here.” he placed a hand on her shoulder. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. She looked up at him, caught in ancient eyes in a young handsome face. “You are fey-promised” he whispered, solemnly. “You cannot stay here.”  
“I know. But how will I get back?”  
“You are not of the fey of this realm but perhaps the Dragon?” he mused. Normally at the words dragon she would be running in the other direction, but the offhand manner in which Myrddin spoke of it, reassured her. And with mythical creatures one couldn’t or shouldn’t have preconceived notions. She come out of a meeting with a rampaging unicorn and had the scars on her chest to prove it. 

Myrddin led her down past the dungeons and through a secret doorway into a large cavern that shimmered with icy stalactites. Then with a rush of wings there was large golden eyed purple dragon sitting on the nearby rock structure. This was not the purple of Barney but more purple-brown with talons and scales. And she, because obviously she was a she, was laughing at me.   
“Boy” she rumbled to Myrddin,”why have you brought a mage she-child to me?” Obviously we were children to her great age, dragons lived for centuries.   
And Myrddin was petting her, making sure to scratch behind it’s nostrils. “We need you power, mistress. She needs to go back to her fey bonded.” She was nodding along until he got to the part where he said go back to her bonded. This was not part of the plan!  
But before she could protest, loudly, the to had already started chanting and their magic was starting to encircle her, It was purple surprisingly, his blue and her’s red. Sarah knew better than to interrupt a spell, things could get dramatic. 

Sarah was lifted up and through a portal, her last site was of Myrddin with his hand raised in farewell. This would be the last time she saw him. He’d grown into an infant before her time, and lost the ability to speak. He’d been hidden away until his life cycle would start again and Pendragon came again. It’s always talked about how Arthur, Gwenhwyfar and Lancelot had the rights to the only Avalonian tragedy, and it was sad, but I would say the life story of Myrddin was equally sad. 

Sarah was contemplating this sadness, when she was dropped into water.   
She emerged sputtering to see a pair of green and blue mismatched eyes smirking down at her. “Well Sarah, that was quite an entrance.” He offered a hand to help her out of what she now realised was his personal baths. She was so lucky he was fully clothed, because he had no shame.   
She pretended to be haughty, raising her chin and accepting his hand, “If you would?”


	5. Chapter 5

He very gallantly pulled her out of the tub, and didn’t stare at the way the water made her white shirt cling to her. At least as far as she could tell.   
She watched him cautiously as she pulled out one his tunics to pull over her ruined shirt, and began towling her hair off. He was being suspiciously quiet at the moment and it was starting to freak her out.

“Now then, I’m going to go find those two poetlings and give them a piece of my mind. They have made it back?” she decided to brush his odd behavior off, and instead mad her way out towards her room, glancing back at him.”Oh and get some dry clothes, I hate wet jeans. That seemed to snap him out of it, as he reached for her, telling her something in his usual tone, something that she did not want to hear. Politics. 

“My parents have retired if you will, and commandeered your usual rooms, something about the lovely ensuite tub. I am high king now.”  
Sarah sighed in resignation. Great this would make him completely impossible. “Where are my things then, high king” she had a bad feeling about this.   
“Why precious, they’ve been moved into mine.”  
“A bit presumptuous, don’t you think?” she asked, snarkily. Looking back fully he was extending a dress to her, she was unimpressed. “Jeans, Jareth” she commanded.   
He smiled pointily at her, changing them to the outfit she had worn when she was younger, changed to fit her now, but still. “As you command, precious.” She was not amused, but took it anyways and retreated into the bathing areas to change.   
When she reappeared, fully dried, but hair pinned up for once. She scowled at Jareth, in irritation. He was lounging back on his bed, twirling crystals between his fingers. She caught glimspes of herself in them. That complete perv, though what did she expect, the fey had no conception of nudity. But she had thought he had a bit more of an understanding of human culture. Or maybe he was just a closet peeping tom. He grinned at her, as if he knew what she was thinking and she huffed in unwilling amusement. She had been in Faerie for several years anyways.   
He leaped up nimbly, with the grace atypical to the fey and began approaching, backing her up slightly. She was not afraid of him, just a little freaked out at the way he was looking at her, his aura expanding and he seemed to grow taller. His power reaching out towards hers, and it danced. She was silently regretting putting so much of herself into his healing, not the healing itself, but that she hadn’t relied on the ambient magic surrounding Faerie.   
“You will sleep here tonight and stay”he tried to glamour her, her!  
““Only if you wish to die tonight”“ she smiled up at him, disarmingly. As if he didn’t have her pinned  
“What sort of death are we discussing?” he retreated, looking at her amused at the way she was drawing power into herself readily. He was not serious in trying to capture her, more play wrestling.   
“You two argue like a married couple” a voice came from the doorway.  
Sarah peeked over Jareth’s schoulder and her eyes narrowed her eyes at the brown haired poet that was leaning so cavalierly in the doorway. Jareth must have been too distracted to fully ward the doorway. Either that or he just didn’t care.  
“You” Sarah growled, completely ignoring the male directly in front of her. Marlowe eeped and disappeared.   
Sarah brushed past Jareth in her hunt for revenge, somehow forgetting that he was the one that ‘hired’ them. Jareth let her go easily, he had not yet fully caught her after all, at least in the metaphorical sense. 

Sarah eventually caught up with Marlowe in the rose gardens. He was hiding behind Will. A good move on his part as she had always had a soft spot for Will. Which of course completely disgusted Kit unless it was to his adventure. Will was trying to disengage Kit’s hold, but Kit was using him a bit like a body shield, arms clasped around Will’s torso, tightly.   
Will was getting a bit exasperated at this but Kit wasn’t budging, using his hold to dance around the bench as Sarah approached.   
“Now Sarah” he started, “we were just following orders”  
Will turned to him and said. “That’s not going to fly Kit, You’ve never truly followed orders.”  
Kit finally let him go, looking angry “I did for Burghley.” And Sarah was forgotten. Kit had never truly forgotten his life as a spy for Elizabeth, his death had been so sudden. Though it seemed Will had.   
Sarah left them at Will’s stricken look. Needing to make her way back not to Jareth, but to collect her bardic cloak. She’d left it in his bath, and it t held to much power and memories to be left with him. Too much of a connection to her. Because despite it all, she was leaving again. He couldn’t catch her that easily. And she hoped that with Titania’s resignation the way to New York would be open again, it would be much harder to notice her amongst the throngs than in London. If she still couldn’t teleport, maybe a mirror would be available.

Jareth was not in his rooms when she got back, for which she was relieved. She fished her cloak out of the bathwater and wrung it dry. Ugg wrinkles. She stuffed it in one of her pockets instead. She loved her pockets. They were all about female empowerment and she had demanded she would have them sown i to the origin trousers, I guess it transferred. 

Sarah moved towards the mirror in the hall that Puck had dragged her from, hopefully it still led to Times Square, she didn’t want to chance teleportation, it took a lot out of her especially if she came up against Titania’s block unexpectedly.   
As she flickered out Jareth’s eyes flashed from where he was sitting in the throne room, holding court. 

“What is a queen without her king?” he murmured softly, not expecting to be heard.   
“Well historically, more powerful” a voice answered from his feet. Jareth looked down, to see Puck at his feet. 

She appeared back in Times Square without a problem, except that night had fallen there as well. And all the creatures of the night had come out with it. She wasn’t talking about the typical homeless and beggars, no this was more unfey. Those who had been cast out of even the dark had to land somewhere, and with so many clueless humans about this was perfect, London had it’s own protections and would be the only other place so populous. 

Okay this was bad, she needed to find one of the safehouses to stay in. There were limits to what she would do to have chase her, and wandering around amongst faerie’s bogeymen was one such limit. She pulled her cloak out to cover her from the night’s chill, it was dry now and only helped somewhat. Too worn thin. 

She thought she remembered one around the block from where she’d found Thomas, but everything was so dark and shadowy that it was hard to find her way and she didn’t dare cast magelight. As it were she was drawing far too much attention just by being there. 

But it would seem someone had found her, or was tracking her presence. She suddenly sensed a figure loom up behind her and grasp at her arm. He was slow, and she quickly dodged him. But his face was too blank. When she looked closely at the strangely silent figure she could see the faint glow of an inscription written across his forehead. Ah so he was less of a he and more like an it. Golems weren’t possessed humans but closer to the Lost which she had come across before, They were clay figures who had Hebrew inscriptions of possession written across there ‘foreheads.’ But who was the necromancer in the shadows? For it had to be a necromancer. Golems were only owned by such. And what might they want with her. THe golem had obviously been sent to collect her.   
“It seems our little queenling is running from someone” a familiar voice crooned tauntingly from the golem. Which was just weird since, while the golem appeared masculine, the voice was obviously female. “Shall I help her?” the golem continued speaking, but now a bit to itself. Herself? Obviously its master was missing a few connections in her brain.   
“No that is not necessary” she didn’t want to get involved in whatever plots Gwendolyn was trying to invoke. Because she recognized her voice. She had come up against her before when she was acting as the courts mage. Though she hadn’t expected her to be in the mortal realm. True she was an enemy, but she was also a figure of pity, at least as far as she could be. She was one of the old Bridgets and a cast off of the fey. Thus evil had been nurtured and she had only been cast to the furtherrmost regions of the dark underground. The fact that she had made it this far aboveground without setting off alarms was frankly impressive.  
She heard a shriek of frustration as she slipped away. So Gwendolyn wasn’t close by and couldn’t move beyond what her minion could do. 

While this ‘conversation’ had been going on Sarah had been subtly scanning the surroundings until she was sure where she was.   
Happily there was an entrance to one of the safety holes she knew just a few steps away. It was always unlocked but had its guardian sprite.   
While the golem was distracted by her refusal and continuous dodges of his grasp, she edged If


	6. Chapter 6

While the golem was distracted by her refusal and continuous dodges of his grasp, she edged away.

Sarah popped through the doorway and was greeted by the guardian srite. It was avery young sprite as it kept bouncing up and down in excitement. Obviously not many people came through here.   
“It’s the Sarah, the Sarah! You’re my first one and i got the Sarah” he babled rapidly. She was a bit nonplussed at his adulations, but waited patiently for him to settle down. She had time. She had to wait here for the sun to rise anyways as she felt the wards wash over her which kept all the baddies out, this was a light fey sanctuary after all. Sarah wondered in the corner of the mind that she kept for such off hand question, if the dark fey had such a sanctuary during the day, or if the light fey had such monsters to the dark. 

The sprite finally settled, breathing deeply to calm himself and regain the air he had lost in his stream of babble. Which surprised Sarah as it was a distinctly human move and she hadn’t believed that most sprites needed air. His breathless word garbage hadn’t dissuaded that belief.  
“I’m sorry but you’re my first visitor since the old guardian retired.” he explained softly as he moved past the doorway. As the room lightened Sarah saw that the sprite was not a physical body but more a bunch of light with a faint blue tinge. She wondered if he’d been magicked or if he was his own being. It wouldn’t be polite to ask, but she was curious.   
Sarah forced herself to ignore her curiosity and instead chose to look around the place in the dim lighting it required some focus.   
The room was set up like a teenage slumber party with pillow thrown everywhere and blankets tossed in random corners.   
A dwarf trundled out of the corner and swatted at the sprite. “Enough you” he grumbled. “Would you like a spot of tea?” well obviously he must have come over from the motherland, she’d never before heard of a polite dwar. And offering tea for that matter.  
She looked askance at the still un-named sprite, his first visitor?  
The sprite must have guessed her question, and bobbed “Oh that’s just Nibor he’s from the old guardian, just chose to stick around.”  
She was going with magicked, he was too new age to be his own being, and he kept giving of sparks of magic. Besides Nibor didn’t seem to be reacting and the dwrves were antisocial with most magical being. She didn’t count as one of them, she supposed. But she wondered how they knew her name. She wasn’t that famous was she?  
“Anyone who manages to beat the king at his own games is well known here.”  
That confirmed it, mind reading was not normally a talent of the magical beings, it came with the powers of guardian that the ‘mastre’ must have set up.  
“I would love some” she finally answered the dwarf. English tea, for it would have to be made in the English manner due to the way it had been offered, was one of her secret loves. 

Sarah plonked herself down on one of the cushions teacup in hand, content to wait the night out. 

Jareth was lounging on his throne tapping his foot with his riding crop, obviously bored. He had sent Puck away moments ago and he really should be doing something more productive but boredom and lethargy had hit. Everything without Sarah seemed duller. He had spent years without her but their recent meeting brought it to the fore, especially because of their linking after his poisoning and near death experience. Yes he was a bit clingy after that.  
He knew she had used the mirror to go to New York but was hesitant to chase after her, knowing she could use it as a halfway stop to anywhere, and she wouldn’t want her to feel as if he was creeping on her. He was still willing to wait until she came to him. Because of course she would, she wouldn’t be able to help it.   
The most he had done was put alarms on her family home to let him know if she crossed the threshold there and warded her against too much danger. But of course too much was a relative idea. And he wasn’t expecting much trouble in the mortal world that she wouldn’t have been able to just brush off. It was tuned to her power level, and she was strong in a kind of sparky level. Nothing compared to his level but against mortals and most low fey? She’d blow them out of the water.   
That’s why he was completely startled when his crystal tied to her magic began enlargening in front of him and emitting a low keening that sounded like a high pitched scream to his finely tuned tey ears.   
He watched silently as Sarah wa confronted with the golem that he recognised as being tied to his brother’s bridget. So that was why. She was active and drawn to royal family’s power. What she saw as its weakest link. More fool her.   
He hadn’t expected her to crawl her way back from the dark fey’s debths until at least another decade, which he really should have what with Sarah’s penchant for trouble, or should he say her ability to draw magical creatures to her. Note Ludo.   
It was Sarah’s proximity to Gwenoldyn’s power that had set off the alarm, not the imminent danger so he settled back down, waving the crystal away as she made her escape. He knew his father had set up several bolt holes aboveground whose maitenance was an automatic siphon on his power. He didn’t think he’d gotten rid of those since they took such little magic.

As the new dawn rose, Sarah made her way down Times Square. It was at that hour where the signs still appeared to be lit by neon background and a few cars were out but none of the tourists were awake. The shops were opening their doors and to her that meant breakfast. She had always been an early riser and beside she was still a bit how you say jet lagged from the transfer from the underground, usually her visits were only temporary and she didn’t feel it as badly.   
But it was time for the breakfast of champions that was so typical of New York, and then some shopping since she kind of stood out in her current clothes. She could always magic up some funds if it went a little beyond what she had stuffed in her back pocket. She wouldn’t create money, just provide a link to what she currently had in her stock, such misuse of money as to fool who she paid was left to the leprechauns, who were at least known for it. No false advertisement there.   
But she approached her favorite stall that sold it by the slice for a couple dollars, she quickly made sure she had enough American money, rather than pounds. Greasy goodness coming her way.  
She’d missed real food. She was acclimated to Faerie’s food but there was something about having something really bad for you that the fey were lacking

“Morning and evening   
Maids heard the goblins cry:   
“Come buy our orchard fruits,   
Come buy, come buy:   
Apples and quinces,   
Lemons and oranges,   
Plump unpeck’d cherries,   
Melons and raspberries,   
Bloom-down-cheek’d peaches,   
Swart-headed mulberries,   
Wild free-born cranberries,   
Crab-apples, dewberries,   
Pine-apples, blackberries,   
Apricots, strawberries;—   
All ripe together   
In summer weather,—   
Morns that pass by,   
Fair eves that fly;   
Come buy, come buy:   
Our grapes fresh from the vine,   
Pomegranates full and fine,   
Dates and sharp bullaces,   
Rare pears and greengages,   
Damsons and bilberries,   
Taste them and try:   
Currants and gooseberries,   
Bright-fire-like barberries,   
Figs to fill your mouth,   
Citrons from the South,   
Sweet to tongue and sound to eye;   
Come buy, come buy.” 

She sang softly to herself, it was the more pertinent song poem, except she wasn’t the naive young maiden who was so easily tempted by goblin food. No she was totally aware when she bit into that pear at one of their feasts. Even as Titania had been watching her closely. She had known she didn’t fit in with the mortal world, not since she came back at fifteen with her little brother. It had all seemed so colorless, despite her constant conversations with her friends through her mirror. 

She looked up sharply as the man selling the pizza sang the last two lines with her. He smirked showing fanged teeth and then the facade of a potbellied Italian shimmered back over him. She knew there were fey up here, good fey, not just the ones at night, but she was still surprised to come across one so easily, especially at a pizza stall but she must not be the only one who missed the greasy. She would ignore it, but pocket it away in the corners of her mind. She’d learned to do that with things that might be useful later. Her version of eidetic memory. It had served her well. 

Sarah finished off her slice, licking her lips in enjoyment and made her way towards the nearby stores. The sun had risen more fully and the place was beginning to get more crowded with tourists, but she hoped they had yet to invade the clothes boutiques.   
She made her way into the store which was crowned with a big Gap sign at the front and was greeted by a matronly salesperson. “Oh honey, no” she sad in alarm and began to drag her towards the changing rooms.   
After a few sounds of struggles and cries of anguish from the changing room, Sarah was thrust out into the open. She was now wearing a black tunic over leggings with a cowl neckline and designer boots. Her various possessions in a nearby backpack pouch.


	7. Chapter 7

Sarah was a bit stunned at the rapidity of the sales clerk, but the boots had a good solid heal, none of those ridiculous silettos that looked like they could kill someone, which had their own merits, but she was not that type of girl. She’d rather kill someone honestly with her sword. Thank you very much. So she went to the counter and paid for it giving a little twirl mentally. She liked it.   
She decided to go to one of the broadways playing that day before she headed back, she did not want to spend another night here, especially with Gwendolyn running amok. Jareth obviously knew exactly where she was.   
They were playing a new version of Aladdin in one of the side theatres. She preferred Disney over the more grandeose showing of the main run after all.  
Which might not be so good of an idea after all she thought as she watched a djinn curl up ominously in the rampants of the theatre, just waiting for some poor fool to wish for something. It had obviously used the idea of Aladdin’s genie to its advantage. But the theatre goiers were to focused on the stage in front of them to look up, and the fey had an illusion on them anyways, right up until they sunk their various fangs into you, that is.   
She wanted to sympathize with its hatred of enslavement, but it was going after innocent humans in retribution, and she couldn’t agree with that.   
Sarah sank a bit lower in her seat, this was beyond her. And besides she had learned early on , not to make foolish wishes. If the mortals wanted to be idiots, more power to them.   
But as she exited the theatre with the jinn grinning toothily at her, knowing she was not powerful enough to banish him, she left a marker on the doorway, hidden by fey subterfuge, that would act as a kind of notice me not to the humans, but would call out to the fey mages. Here there be dragons. Metaphorical dragons that is.   
It would not easily get its victims after this. She would not leave him to his revenge without doing something.   
Sarah really should have expected more fey here, as it was a major gateway. Not as bad as London, but still.   
When she had finished she clapped her hands as if to say finished and decided that since Jareth wasn’t going to make a move out of his place personally, she would be alright with visiting the area around the palace without a problem. And she wanted to see Ralph. No particular reason, but that his stream was peaceful, and Jareth wouldn’t expect her to dare. She was always game for a challenge. It’s why she had been so prepared to face his labyrinth after all, and she wanted to make this fun for Jareth. It was less about him catching her now, and more about the chase. Or hadn’t it always been so.   
The sun had lowered and twilight was approaching when she flickered back into Faerie. She didn’t want to use the mirror she used to previously, as it led directly into the palace. And that was tempting Jareth a little too much. Anyways the way had been opened, Titania must have realised that she was already in New York and wanted to make it easier to come back. 

Ralph was by his stream, unchanged from where she had left him before. Trolls were very slow to move when they did choose to at all. He was still humming to himself, but brightened when she approached. It had only been a small second jump from where she’d landed originally, so she wasn’t that exhausted. And being in Faerie, she automatically took in some of the Green’s power. It was subconscious that she began subsumed, not like the mortal world which all about technology and iron. Faerie was magic. 

Sarah kicked her shoes off and dabbled her toes in the stream. He sat beside her complacedly and they watched the ripples of the stream, singing softly and letting the magic sink into the water. It was good to create this symbiosis every so often. And if Jareth was listening it would irk him.

“Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more.   
Men were deceivers ever,   
One foot in sea, and one on shore,   
To one thing constant never.   
Then sigh not so, but let them go,   
And be you blithe and bonny,   
Converting all your sounds of woe   
Into hey nonny, nonny.” 

“You are ever against him, Sarah” he laughed at her choice of song.   
“Indeed” The voice came from behind her and she eeped. She recognized that voice.   
She turned looking up at him, he was in his relaxed outfit but still looked ominous and a bit annoyed She smiled at him, cheekily “Jareth!Fancy you’d be here.!”  
“Now precious, why wouldn’t I be?” he was playing with her. But then she felt the wards fall down trapping her in his presence or within her link to the palace and the royal court.  
“Jareth?” she demanded questioningly.  
He looked at her silently for a minute. “Sarah. She is hunting you” he stated solemnly, “this is for your own good.”  
She was instantly furious. He couldn’t trap her and pull that it was for her own good crap! She got right up in his face, which in hindsight was exactly what he wanted her to do.  
“You have no power over-” she started.  
“In fact, you’ll find that I do. Mage.” He was trying to invoke her duty and touch to the royal crown. But she would have none of it.Thrusting her hand through the tendrils of power that were trying to curl around her.   
“Just love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave.”  
Sarah just scowled at him in refusal. He was bring up the words. The words that she regretted refusing so easily when she was younger. But in this case she was too angry to accept them. Besides, she didn’t truly want a slave, any prospective relationship should be more equal. But such was the understanding of the fey.   
“Fine then” he sighed. And then began knotting a loop in his hair. “Sarah mac Williams, sister of Toby Williams and wizard-mage extraordinaire attached to the court of the royal fey high king.”  
He was invoking her true name and binding her in his hair. This wasn’t supposed to happen! She cursed herself for changing out the boots with iron nailed into them, but the ones she had bought had been so pretty and the stream had felt so good on her feet. Then she remembered she had some iron caught up in her hair and a ring on her finger that was mage woven iron. Just a little extra power to prepare for a rainy day. Constant vigilance and all that.   
Sarah reached up and unbound her hair, taking out the piece of eight, iron, that she had stored up there. She had nearly forgotten about that, and saw Jareth’s eyes widen. Oh so he had thought this would be a piece of cake? Did he even know her?  
“hrough dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City to take back the child that you have stolen. For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great.” she intoned as she thrust the object in font of her, holding it with the iron ringed hand. She had promised to never say the words and to never use iron in the kingdom lest it be for protection, well this was for protection of her independence, and besides he had also promised not to bind her. Words were supposed to be power here!  
She turned to Ralph while Jareth was still affected by the iron, he’d eventually throw it off and be as good as new, and apologized for bringing such disruption to his stream. She turned and ficked to the very eges of the area she was bound to, she couldn’t handle being around Jareth currently, she might kill him and that would be bad. She knew he meant well, but she was having a hard time holding on to that knowlege at the moment.   
Sarah couldn’t go far, but she would still go. She knew the reaches of the fey court, she’d guarded their borders for years. Fey years that is, which was why she’d maintained her youth, ageing slowly. She wondered off hand just how old that made Jareth. Cradle robber much? But she supposed the link between them only worked because the age of their power levels, and the fact that during the tithe his power level lowered. She still didn’t have as much as him, but she guessed the Green’s innate chauvinism was at work here. It was obviously male dominant inclined. A hetero power that was throughout Faerie, now that was scary to think about.   
Sarah huffed in annoyance, kicking her foot against the barrier wall that she couldn’t actually see.   
Curse it all, she was going to have to go back to the palace and make nice. She had no clothes, no food no water, even if they were goblin made, she still had the physical memory of being more human as she refused to grow a tail.   
She could wait a few more hours to let Jareth worry that she had managed to break through the wards. She knew better though, his argument that Gwendolyn was nigh was reasonable. After all she had an unreasonable vendetta against Sarah for succeeding in being ‘kept’ in her mind. A woman scorned and all that. Even if Morgan had watched over her as long as he had. That wasn’t really something one bragged about.   
She huffed and slumped down, she was beginning to recognise that he had something to his reasoning. He had still broken his word.


	8. Chapter 8

Jareth sat on his throne with his head in his hands. He realised he had screwed up. He just wanted to care for her, protect her. But he had promised. And the look on her face as she ran from him again. Before it had just been as if she was just going away for a while, but now it was from him. But he was trying. He shook his head, no that was self-justification and he wouldn’t. She had pointed it out that he used his position and his supernatural quality to argue for his righteousness when she was smaller, but not more malleable. His parents had retired into the Green, elst he’d go to them for advice. But not his mother, she was always flighty and questionable about his choice in Sarah, but his father managed to manage. He loved his mother, but he was a bit in awe of his father.   
He was bemoaning his misfortune, mentally, when he felt it. His power sung in synchrony. She had come back? Why? 

Sarah stormed in and Jareth straightened up. They just stared at each other for a few seconds, letting the link in their magic wash over them, and cool their rising annoyance off. She’d heard this worked for diffusing arguments. That and holding hands, but she refused to reach out to him, and he was being all royal mighty-ness.  
“I’m pissed at you” she crossed her arms, after telling him that, a bit redundantly.” But I realize you meant well.”  
Jareth sighed as he felt his magic synchronise with what she was unwittingly giving off. He had always felt the strength of her magic, just slightly interior to his own after the tithe, but it had previously beaten against his. Since the healing they seemed to be more in tune. He had wanted her out of here because of the danger of fey politics, but now he just wanted her close. It was backwards and forwards with them.When she had dared his labyrinth and they had not yet connected, he wanted to possess and take apart just why she was able to defeat it/ him. Then after he’d pretty much spied on her before he paid the tithe, he had grown to want her and to keep her safe. It had not been a good surprise to see her in the fey court when he had come back. But after he had woken up from his brother’s mischief, he had wanted to clutch her close, but she hadn’t been there.   
He hadn’t realised she’d come closer. “Jareth” she murmured. He hadn’t realise he looked that disconsolate to draw out an apology. “I’m not apologizing for being angry” she commented neutrally.   
And their magic sung.   
He drew her closer, letting his personal magic wash over her soothingly, searching for injuries and ensuring her well being. Passing through the power of the iron ring on her hand, now well accustomed to it he felt that she only had a small papercut on her left hand, which he healed.   
She was looking up at him, glazed as the girl in the poofy white ball gown.   
He looked down at her and smirked, smiled slightly.   
But he didn’t want it to remain. He was flattered that he could still do that to her, and his male ego was stroked, but he preferred the fire in her eyes, the spark of intellect and equality within it.   
“I@m apologising for bringin up old wounds” she murmured, obviously not as out of it as she first appeared. He nodded in recognition, still not letting her go as she wasn’t trying to get out of his hold. 

He looked up sharply as he felt the borders bend and break, something was coming through. Sarah sighed and stood up from her position almost sitting on Jareth’s lap, thankful that he had not made a big deal about it. And glanced over her shoulder at the outline of something that was not supposed to be here. This was not a generic not supposed to be here, but something nefarious that had managed to make it through the wards. They must have known about some weakness or shift in the wards to be able to manage that because a full frontal assault would not have penetrated them so easily.   
Jareth made a move to shove her behind him, but Sarah side stepped him without looking, prepared to face whatever came with her eyes wide open, not shivering in fear plaintively crying at the unfairness.   
“Gwendolyn” Jareth growled out. He must have expected something like this to happen.   
She smirked infuriatingly,”You didn’t think your brother left me completely unmprepared for your coronation, your majesty.” The title was spoken with mockery, as if it wasn’t a true title.  
Sarah was a bit nonplussed at the family drama. Is this really how the family whore behaved after she’d been paid off? The silhouette was solidifying into a real person. Sarah was just now noticing that the throne room had emptied out of members besides them. Did they just dissapear at signs of conflict or had Jareth ordered them away? Surely there were still some armed members in residence?  
Puck popped in besides her while the two were still distracted. He pulled on her arm, making motions towards the far off door. He cringed when he pulled on her beringed hand, but continued anyways. She refused, and began gathering her magic for a fight. She was surprised to feel that it was no longer just her magic, but her’s and Jareth’s with very little distinction between them.   
Gwendolyn turned at the feel of their magic, mistakenly believing it was just her’s. She similed sickenly, “And you brought your little human too.” Sarah didn’t like that, it made her sound like too much of a pet. Maybe that was the only thing Gwendolyn thought possible, or maybe she was just trying to rile her.   
Sarah took a page out of Jareth’s book and expressionlessly replied “Indeed.” Ooo that burned, it was as if she was accepting the label, but it also served to annoy Gwendolyn. It would do.   
Gwendolyn began drawing power. It was a deep red and based off emotions, sith-like, rather than the Green of the fey. Sarah briefly wondered where she’d learned to draw such power, as she had been told that when Morgan had found her she was just a measly powerless human girl.


	9. Chapter 9

Sarah took a page out of Jareth’s book and expressionlessly replied “Indeed.” Ooo that burned, it was as if she was accepting the label, but it also served to annoy Gwendolyn. It would do.   
Gwendolyn began drawing power. It was a deep red and based off emotions, sith-like, rather than the Green of the fey. Sarah briefly wondered where she’d learned to draw such power, as she had been told that when Morgan had found her she was just a measly powerless human girl.   
Sure she had been a Bridget, but with no training she should have just been a source for someone else to drain from. 

Jareth reached out to her with his end of their magic bond, and they formed an ellipse of magic that fed on itself and also increased their total power if that made sense. It confused Sarah on just why that worked, but she was content with knowing it did.  
Jareth on the other hand had more knowledge about magic, and knew this was how such magic was so powerful with his family, total power, not power of the individual. Something that Morgan had never fully grasped. 

She cast first, not like Harry Potter spells, it was more like a stream of gaelic that only served to enhance her power which sought to overcome our power bubble. It was like that scene from Pocohontas where the blue and red forces are seeking to overcome each other in the sky. Except of course that our power was green and neither of ours had formed into an identifiable being. We did not place our identity in our power, it was more external though we relied on part of our core as well as the Green for Jareth and Sarah. On the other hand Gwendolyn didn’t have identifiable figures with her power, yet t was still based on her personal emotions. Basically when we defeated her, because yes that was basically inevitable, she would be physically injured if not dead from the backlash of her power. More fool her. 

Sarah was inclined to summarise the battle by stating: they fought and leave it at that. But Jareth reminded her about the power of words in sinking Gwendolyns defeat into the Green. 

It was a mighty battle, strong magic thrown on both side. Gwendolyn was constantly bringing out the big guns in gaelic incantation but Jareth had always been an amazing wordsmith, able to create and destroy spells at the drop of the hat. Sarah was more backup defense and a resource, but they fought well together. Not that she enjoyed battle, but she enjoyed watching Jareth completely trounce Gwendolyn and then banish her back into the dark and put a boundary spell around her to boot. 

Jareth stood there staring at the place Gwendolyn had been a few moments ago, thinking perhaps a bit nostalgically. But then he shook himself and turned to Sarah. But she was not there having left for his chambers and the tub. He sighed, he was always chasing after her. He smiled ruefully and poofed away. Perhaps he would be able to catch her bathing, that is if she didn’t kill him.

The silence in the room echoed when a side door creaked open, “Is it safe to come out?” Puck whispered, sticking his head out questioningly. He had made his getaway when the room had begun to sixxle with power. Sarah had given him a sideways nod, distracted with maintaining a shield around Jareth and her. There were still no guards appearing and he had to wonder if something had happened to the palace guard or even Marlowe as one of the better fighters. Yes the royal couple could handle her easily, but backup would have been nice. 

Sarah was clean, but Gwendolyn’s power had made her feel as if she had a sheen of slime over her. And Jareth had a pool like tub in his room, with scented bubbles! So bubble bath it was. Which was fortunate for when Jareth appeared sitting on the edge of the tub and trailing his fingers in the water, leering at her. But the fey had this odd idea of preserving innocence until handfast. So she felt relatively secure, not that she was willing to parade around in her birthday suit. And not that she would say so. 

He gently swirled his finger around making sure not to touch her, while she use her magic to ensure the bubbled continued to cover her. They watched each other peacefully for the moment. Sarah realised that she was beginning to prune and felt the need to get out and eat something, but Jareth had her trapped and he knew it from the quirk of his lips. 

She decided to hell with modesty and began to raise herself. But at the first glimpse of skin he poofed away. So he was shy? She would never have guessed. She toweled off and quickly donned the outfit she had left behind in the Gap boutique. So he didn’t approve of the dress, but at least he had restored the iron nailed boots. He had held on to certain intimate items though, so she was forced to go commano. Apparently the high king was both shy and a pervert at the same time. But what could she do, he was still a young man in fey years, and seemed like a contemporary of hers. 

Once clothed she flounced out to the throne room, which had filled up again with creatures of various ilk. She recognised Sir Chaucer by the drink stand, simpering away to the nearby wizards. Wizards were lesser than mages and this one resented it and aspired to higher things. If he thought the way was through Chaucer, he would come to a stark conclusion, one filled with alcohol.   
In her zagged path towards Jareth and the throne, because for some reason she felt that she needed to be besides him, she was confronted by a chastised Marlowe and Will. Her pride not letting her let on that she was searching for Jareth, she acknowledged them. Jareth was watching her closely to see how she handled them.

She raised her eyebrow at them expectantly. If she was being named queen against her will she might as well act like it.  
She just stood there and waited, chin up and arms crossed. “I suppose it’s time” Will murmured, and looking up at Sarah, they murmured in sync “To another queen we swore and now we swear again. Our honor, our loyalty, our lives we so lay at thy feet.”  
This, this was it. Even Jareth looked up and listened. HIs queen was gathering her court well. They had sworn using the power of the Green, and if they betrayed her so would it punish them. That was one way of gaining her forgiveness, a bit extreme, but the Dead Poets had been all about extremes. They’d sworn so the swore. She extended her hands to them and raised them up from their kneeled position. The years she had spent when she was younger pursuing a drama career had served her well. Although then she had always been playacting the plucky girl who defeated the monster at the castle, now she had to show herself a queen. She felt a bit ridiculous doing so, but at the same time she felt Jareth’s approval. He was not the villain anymore but and ascended prince charming, and he was relieved, as her expectations of his villainy had exhausted. But even as far back as then he had wanted to give her everything. Had he known what she would become? Or had she just amused a fey’s fickle fancy. 

“Your majesty” Kit whispered in her ear now that everything had been set, and before she could continue on her way up to Jareth, “there is something you should see.”  
Her curiosity had been peeked, especially if it was not a prank. She did not think Kit would dare so immediately after publicly vowing to her. She didn’t even need to knot him in her hair, a practice she had always been leery of. She glanced behind her at Jareth but he nodded her off. He was aware that she would return to him, how could she not?

They drew her along to the side of the sleeping king. That peaceful glen remained undisturbed in its sheltering elk trees that circled around it. At the king’s bedside was a middle aged woman, dark heired and eldrich in her beauty, but with familiar green eyes. Sarah briefly wondered if this was how she would look when she had reached a certain age.   
The woman stood up elegantly, not tripping on her long skirts that fell around her.   
“Morgana” she aked unbelievingly. She’d believed she would never see the people of Camelot, except for Arthur here, that his sister was… THere were all those stories about how Morgana became Morgan le Fay and worked to get rid of Myrddin she wondered if there was truth in any of then. Morgana and Myrddin had been such good friends. Sure she had known that Morgana resented Uther’s treatment of the magical on principal since back then she hadn’t appeared to show any power, but Sarah didn’t see how that translated over into dislike of Myrddin.  
“Sarah” she said placidly “I knew I had sensed something about you.” Sarah wanted to apologize, she’d looked up to the slightly older girl regardless of her story’s connotations and her position in the royal family compared to Myrddin and Gwen. She had had the aristocracy’s condescension of them, though she didn’t intend to And always had a mischevious look in her formal mask.   
“There is no blame” Morgana reassured her “it would not have been good for Uther to find out. And the servants talk.” Ah so she and Gwen had a falling out. She briefly wondered if it had been before or after Gwen had screwed with Arthur’s life. Love doesn’t conquer all if you’re already comitted!  
“So, queen of the fey?” Morgana murmured, teasingly as the years seemed to drop off of her and she was once again a young girl in her late teens, ribbing Sarah about her ‘prince.’ She supposed it was king now.  
“Well obviously I have to meet him, and screen him” Morgana stated in false joy, more mocking. Then she actually elbowed Sarah, “does he look like Myrddin?”  
Fiddlesticks! She knew about her crush on Myrddin. It hadn’t been serious, more like admiration for his legacy. She hadn’t fangirled noticeably had she? Morgana made it sound as if she had.   
Then she paled. Jareth absolutely could not find out about this. He would turn back time just to set it straight, even if Myrddin had been nearly worshiped by the fey. More so because, she thought blankly.   
While she had stood pondering the possibilities of just what could go wrong, Morgana had moved several paces towards the throne room, leaving Sarah to chase after her.


	10. Chapter 10

Jareth was distracted from the tedious conversations he was having with one of the more entrepeneur courtiers. He had been trying to argue for taxation on goods taken out of Faerie, he somehow failed to realise that the poor fools who actually obtained something from Faerie either stole them, and was unlikely to legally pay for it, or was tricked into it, then have pity on them, they were already being taken advantage of. It was not like Faerie wasn’t well off and needed regular income anyways.   
His eyes were beginning to wander out of boredom from the man’s monotone voice that was continuously spouting off numbers as if he was a schoolboy who could not keep track of his piggybank. His goblins ran the aboveground bank for magicals, for crying out loud.  
When suddenly his eyes fixated on two figures who had come in through the door that led to the sleeping king’s resting place. Did Sarah clone herself? The two female looked disturbingly alike, not the same but similar. One he recognised as obviously Sarah with the outfit and the feel of their link. But who was the other? She had the feel of youthening magic surrounding her, but the dress she was wearing was several ages out of date, but of a quality fit for a king. Sarah was chasing after her and they were both laughing hilariously, as if for some great joke, that only they were in tune with. 

“And who are you my lady@” Best be polite until he knew exactly who or what she was.   
“Lady Morgana le Fay” she answered curtsying but she had a mischevious glint in her eye. She knew exactly how he would react to her. Jareth paled distinctly and Sarah looked at him oddly a bit worried.   
Morgana just smirked to herself as she rose from her curtsy. “Never fear, your majesty” she snarked, “I mean only to check up on my brother, wilt only be a few moments. And to visit with Sarah that is.” She moved back through the doorway after leaning down to whisper in Sarah’s ear “I approve.” Sarah blushed a deep crimson which attracted Jareth’s attention amidst his panicking. It was not a good day when le Fay appeared willy nilly in one’s court.   
But she was leaving so he breathed a sigh of relief. Alls well that ends well, but Sarah wasn’t walking towards him, she was moving towards the large doors at the end of the room, as if she intended to leave. That was not on. 

Before he could flash in front of her to demand she stay, she was barred from the entryway by the fact that someone had been thrown through the doors and at her feet.

It was the previously termed Lady Anissa, one of Morgan’s more neutral followers. She wasn’t loyal to Morgan, but was ambitious enough to be included in his plotting. She had fled as soon as Morgan had been discovered. It was a wonder that she had been found as she would have slithered into one of her family’s boltholes. That was not a theoretical slither, her family was of the lamia, and she was able to transform fully into a serpent. She must have on a negater bangle, else she would have transformed and be spitting venom. Instead she was only hissing insults with her human tongue.


	11. Chapter 11

Her hair was was limp and her eyes hollow. Obviously she’d been on the run without her usual toiletries. A familiar knight errant came in behind her, holding a tall spear and wearing a green tunic with a red deer embroidered on it. He had curly red hair and laughing brown eyes. Sir Patrick formerly of Ireland, he was the chaser of snakes. So that was where the knights of the court were.   
“Majesty” he boomed in his deep voice, directed more at Sarah rather than Jareth, “I’ve brought a gift!”  
At this Anissa looked up to where she was at, too concerned with Patrick at the time to notice. Seeing Sarah she glared “You.” Obviously she had thought Sarah was a mere servant to the crown rather than a prospective queen. Things had changed with the passing of the crown, but she should have known of Jareth’s interest in her. Unless it was willful ignorance.  
“Me” Sarah replied, as if it was an everyday question. A bit of condescension was justified though, the snake-lady had irritated her after all.   
Jareth poofed next to her, they would handle it as a royal couple it would seem. Ignoring Jareth, Sarah spoke to Sir Patrick,”Aew we your ocean, sir?”   
He laughed “It would seem so, majesty. If you would prefer water though, I can do that.”   
Anissa paled at that. Though she could breathe underwater and would survive, she was deathly afraid of water. Sarah ignored her whimpering and replied, “So shall it be as I have nowhere else to put her” implying that the palace was her own property and that the dungeons were to good for Anissa. Which they were, as well as not really capable of holding a serpent.   
Jareth leaned down and whispered in Sarah’s ear as Sir Patrick dragged his ‘gift’ away, “You can be so cruel.”  
She smirked at him, “Like you didn’t know” He looked at her, startled at her bluntness, but then his gaze turned considering.   
Then Puck popped up next to them. “You’ll do very well.” he said earnestly, “despite appearances. Words of wisdom from the court jester/ minion. They must laugh at him, and beat him at the same time.  
“I have never been so insulted” Sarah teased back, ignoring the way Jareth had his arm wrapped around her possessively. 

He chortled and skipped back, singing obnociously “For whilst I live my wail must ever run.  
Too lightly won! Too lightly won.”   
Sarah slanted her eyes at him, “Are you something of a prophet now, Puck? Those lines seem awefully familiar.”  
“I heard it from a little birdy” Puck admitted without thinking his confession through. The effect of her new position as it was recognized by the fey, none of those loyal to her could lie directly to her.  
“That’s not fair” Puck grumbled to himself.  
“I wonder at your basis of comparison” Sarah and Jareth said in sync.  
While they were both processing that there minds seemed to have been linked, Puck slunk off, muttering about drunk centaurs. Jareth sighed and smiled, extending his hand towards Sarah once more. Sarah hesitated slightly, looking behind her towards the doors. She was still hesitant to comot, still hearing echpes of ‘too lightly won’ going through her mind.

Jareth sighed and withdrew his hand, smiling softly as the last glimpse of that fugly bardic cloak was seen as Sarah dashed through the door laughing “Tis not that easy my king!” Ar least she recognized her position with the suggestion that she’d either come back or let herself be caught.

“She walks in beauty” he murmured wryly to himself, content in the knowledge that now that she’d accepted her title implicitly, she wouldn’t fly far and he didn’t want to cage her spirit. Better to let her come to him convinced it was her own plan.

Sarah wasn’t sure where to go what to do. It was reassuring that Morgana had approved of Jareth as an intimate companion. She had always been a good judge of character, and Sarah was sure that her antagonism towards Myrddin was out of jealousy of Nimue. Nimue had been a bitch, and had been after Arthur’s head despite Myrddin’s defense of her. Note that Myrddin really hadn’t been a good judge of pretty girls despite his living backwards, or perhaps because of. 

She decided to pass through the rose garden with it intricate maze. She knew that Jareth could pass through it with ease, but she didn’t think he would chase after her immediately. It would give her time to think and it was just far enough from the palace to seem as if she wasn’t cloying. A tentative come hither if thou will. Besides she liked the creature at the center, having walked the maze before. She wasn’t aware that magic had been placed on its tunnels, not Jareth’s magic as she would have recognized it, but still magic to change the pathway each time a person entered. So there were twists and turns, and deadends that Sarah did not know of. There were no dangerous beasties though, it was supposed to have the facade of a garden after all.

Sarah spent a few hours exploring the new pathways, delighting in the twists and turns. She was perverse that way.When she finally tired and went to backtrack, she found her way blocked by the Goblin King himself.   
“Precious I tire of these games” he drawled to her. And he was, staying on his throne he was bored out of his mind, and watching her through his crystals did little to help as all he saw her rows of flowers.   
“Am I your source of amusement then?” Sarah pretended to be insulted, but really she was amused. He was like a child wanting attention.  
Jareth decided to play, teasing her “Yes.”  
“Well then. What’s Puck’s purpose?”  
Puck suddenly popped in like the writing prompt that he is, “I hear my name” and then looking at there standoff he popped out stating, “don’t bring me into this, my queen.”  
Sarah had known that saying the names, or what counted for names in Faerie, would call for them if they served oneself, and had hoped it would distract Jareth from his very intense stare. The stare was disturbing her because she knew it meant that he wanted her and that her flying days were over.   
She knew if she literally flew he would chase her in his owl form, but the way he was pacing forward and the look in his eye made her feel hunted. This was not the plan! She was supposed to be verbose and superior, finally coming back to him, not being trapped like prey. So she panicked. 

Without thinking, she drew up her magic to transform into a small black raven. It was only after she’d completely transformed and saw that he was instantaneously a white owl, crouched to follow her, did she remember that she’d never gotten around to learning how to fly. She’d been using the bird as camouflage when she needed it. She flapped her wings futilely, and then she felt large hands cupping her form gently.  
Jareth had changed back into his larger form and was holding her in his hands, looking down at her in amusement. Sarah was looking up at him petulantly, or as petulantly as a bird could look


	12. Chapter 12

Then Jareth’s individual magic swept through her and she was forced to change back to human and found herself laying in his arms. That high handed -mmph!

He planted his lips on her and as typical of all shoddy romance novels, she was lost. Or was it found?  
This wasn’t working for her, she would not play the damsel in distress, though she was sure Jareth would love that.   
She pulled herself up by his shoulders into the kiss, then grasped his hair and tugged. He growled appreciatively and used her hold on her to drag her closer. They didn’t even notice Will step around the hedge and then backtrack, blushing deeply yet smiling ad murmuring “Loves labor lost indeed.” Then he chucked to himself once he made it to the entryway of the maze, wondering if he was enacting the chorus. Best to ask Kit if they could bring out Love’s Labors Found yet. 

Sarah finally broke away from Jareth to breathe, her eyes a bit glazed. He was not much better as her hands remained bunched in his hair. Sensitive.   
He tried to pull her in for another kiss but she put a finger to his lips and smirked up at him.”In the gardens. Really?”  
He let her go briefly and enlargened one of his crystals as a gateway, his preference of form of travel, she liked just popping out, but she rolled her eyes and took his gestured hand. “Exit stage right precious thing?” he asked sarcastically as they went through the portal he had conjured.   
Sarah found herself at the doors to Jareth’s rooms, well she guessed they were also her rooms now. Jareth placed his hand on her back to guide her in to the room and she yanked on the closest lock of his hair, he purred at her in pleasure at his latest kink. The fey were particular about their hair, notice their use of it to claim and bind individuals.He let his hand drop at the feel, and allowed her to drag him into the room by his hair. The door closed firmly behind them. 

He chased her until she caught him.


End file.
